Ashes of Honor

“Ah!” April nodded understanding. “Under normal circumstances, they would be. Since these are not normal circumstances, I have given everyone the night off. I would prefer to avoid bloodshed if possible. It has been difficult to attract replacement staff after the last time.”

“Yeah, well, murder and mayhem do tend to upset most people.” I walked to the coffee machine, pausing only to take a mug from beside the sink. “Coffee.”

“Perhaps that will make you less unpleasant,” said Tybalt.

I jumped, whirling to see him standing next to the vending machine, arms folded, glaring at me. “Maeve’s bones, Tybalt! Just because April teleports everywhere, that doesn’t mean you have to start doing it, too!”

“What? You mean it irritates you when I appear and disappear in the middle of conversations?” He unfolded his arms, but kept glaring. “I’m pleased to see we still have a few things in common.”

“I can’t talk to you right now.” I turned my back on him, picking up the coffeepot and filling my mug instead. “April, telling everyone to stay home was smart. Now we just need to figure out our next smart move.”

“Can it be not dying?” asked Quentin. “I like not dying.”

“Yeah, it can.” I sipped my coffee, taking that moment to recenter myself before I turned back around to face the others. Tybalt was still there. That was something, anyway. “So we have not dying, finding Chelsea, and finding Raj. The last trace we had on Chelsea put her in or around Dreamer’s Glass. We’ve got nothing on Raj, except for knowing that wherever he is, he doesn’t have access to the Shadow Roads.” I paused. “Tybalt. The Shadow Roads. What do they connect to?”

“Ah, so now you can talk to me? Truly, I am honored.”

I sighed. “Okay, maybe I deserved that. I’m sorry. I mean the question seriously. What do the Shadow Roads connect to?”

Tybalt frowned. “The shadows, of course. Their anchors are in the Courts of Cats; the Kings and Queens keep them open with our presence. Without us, our subjects would be as trapped as those of the Divided Courts.”

“Raj isn’t a King yet. Can he hold the Shadow Roads open on his own?”

“For a time, yes.”

“What if he were in a place where Cait Sidhe hadn’t been in a really, really long time? Would he be able to open the shadows then?”

Tybalt’s frown deepened. “No,” he admitted. “Raj is a Prince, and a strong one, but I couldn’t have held the shadows at his age.”

“Would you know if he was nearby, but not exactly in the same place? Like if you were in a knowe, and he was right outside?”

“Yes. He is a Prince of Cats. I always know when someone with his potential is near.”

“Got it.” I turned to the table where Li Qin, April, and Quentin waited, watching me with puzzled expressions. “Quentin, I know what has to happen next, and you’re not going to like it.”

He sighed. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“I am, and I need you to stay here, so you can call me if the charm changes color. We don’t have to stay together, and it seems to react to proximity. I don’t want us to miss another chance to catch Chelsea.”

“What if you’re in San Francisco when it lights up? It’ll take you like two hours to get back here.”

“No, it won’t.” I turned to Tybalt. “Will you take me? I think I may know how to find Raj, but I’m going to need someone with access to the Shadow Roads.”

Tybalt’s lingering frown faded into a look of resignation. “We’re going to talk later.”

“I guessed that part.” I finished my coffee in one long drink. “April, keep an eye out. Quentin, don’t get yourself killed.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

“Good.” I walked over to Tybalt. “We need to go to Shadowed Hills.”

“Then you need to hold your breath.” He put his hands around my waist, a little tighter than strictly necessary, and he stepped back, into the dark.

I don’t know how the Cait Sidhe navigate the Shadow Roads, any more than I know how they can breathe there. They must be able to, at least a little. Tybalt is in good shape, yes, but there are limits. He kept one hand on my waist, removing the other and twining his fingers with mine. Then he turned me around, and pulled me in his wake as he began to run.

Experience had made it strangely easy to trust him as he pulled me away through the absolute blackness and freezing cold. Whatever else I might be feeling, however confused I might be, I trusted him to bring me safe out the other side. I trusted him to—

I trusted him. Qualifiers were meaningless. Worse yet, he was right; I’d been pushing everyone away as hard as I could since Connor died, trying to isolate myself in order to protect my heart against further damage. Losing a lover and a child on the same day was more than anyone should be asked to bear. But how much could I ask my friends to bear? How much could I expect them to take before they said, “Fine, if you want to push us away, we’re going”?